Forever And For Always
by beautiful-dreamer-2008
Summary: John and Rita will discover how much they still care about and love one another in a serious matter of life or death. Rated for low levels of physical abuse and rape.


Okay, this is my first completed fic, so..enjoy! I'm not gonna bug ya to review, cuz I never do myself, but if you wanna, go ahead! = ) And just a reminder that I own absolutely nothing except the plot! = )  
  
Some things I should mention before ya get to the actual fic (aka author's -very long- ramblings): First, I wrote this with Lieutenant Tony Rodriguez in the picture, so in my imagination, he's okay and healthy and everything. It doesn't really matter if you wanna look at it like he was released from the hospital in full health or if you wanna forget the whole Fraker/shooting thing ever happened, it's never mentioned in the story so it doesn't really matter. = )  
Second, I had already developed the storyline and had begun writing when  
  
I decided to send what I had gotten down so far to my friend in Texas, who read it and loved it, but then told me, rather bluntly, "Dude, ________'s in jail." Well, I didn't wanna re-do my whole plot so I just continued and here's the deal: ________ did do the act that landed him in jail in the actual series but in my fic he isn't in jail, don't ask me how he woulda pulled it off, I didn't think to much about it and frankly I don't care. = ) Hope all that makes sense; it should when you get to certain parts in the story.I think. I don't wanna give away too much! = )  
Third, John Clark will always be referred to as John and the PAA John Irvin will always be John Irvin. Just so no one's confused or anything. = )  
Fourth, for the duration of the story the squad is gonna be relatively un-busy. I doubt that would really happen in the series, but, hey, my story, right? = )  
Fifth, I first came up with the title as I was writing the last couple sections. It's the title of a song by Shania Twain on her latest album, Up!, 2002. The chorus is at the end of the story. Ummm.everything else's the same as on TV, so I guess that's it! Hope ya like it!!! = )  
  
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Forever And For Always  
  
When Detective John Clark, Jr. broke up with Detective Rita Ortiz right after his father's suicide, it hit her hard. She had been there for him, hadn't she? She offered a shoulder for his tears, and arms to comfort him through the night. And she was constantly encouraging him to talk to her, to his partner Andy Sipowicz, a psychiatrist, anyone, as long as he talked to someone about what he was feeling. But for John, it was just too much.  
Rita didn't realize how much she really loved him until she no longer had him. In fact, it kept her up at night, and still did, almost six months later. She wished she could have the courage to let him know how much he still meant to her, but it just wasn't as easy talking to him as it was her partner Connie McDowell, especially after his little "fling" with "Doctor Devlin". Thank God that didn't last long, it was hard enough having to get through each day without clouding her mind with thoughts of him with his new girlfriend.  
But, unbeknownst to Rita, and for that matter, everyone else, too, for John would never dare admit it, he still loved her, too. In the middle of all those long, lonely nights, he wished she were there to wrap her warm arms around him. Being with Jennifer just wasn't the same.  
And, in the end, they would find out just how much they still meant to one another in a matter of life or death.  
  
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Rita slowly and tiredly unlocked the door of her apartment. She was so tired she could hardly stand up straight. Once she was in, she threw her purse and overcoat on the couch, then flung herself down as well. She let out a long sigh as she thought about the happenings of the day. Everyone was so busy that only once during the day were all six detectives there in the squad room at the same time, and she and Connie had had to deal with two different cases.  
I'll just skip supper tonight, she thought as she got up and made her way to the bedroom. I could use a good night's rest. She slowly undressed and dropped onto the bed. Not bothering to crawl under the covers, she reached over and turned off the light.  
And, parked by the curb outside the building, just out of the glow of the streetlight, was a car, inhabited by a silent watcher, staring up at the recently darkened window of Rita's bedroom. There for the fourth night in a row, he closely knew Rita's routine from the time she got home to the time she laid down in bed. Soon, this routine would be disrupted, with hazardous results.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Morning, John." Rita greeted the PAA the next morning as she entered  
the squad room.  
"Good morning, Detective." He replied with a gracious smile.  
"Hey." John Clark said as she walked past his desk, trying to be  
friendly.  
"Hey." She responded, with less than little enthusiasm. He snickered  
as she continued to her desk and put her stuff down, waving to Tony on  
the phone in his office to indicate that she was there.  
"I made a fresh pot if you'd like some." John continued, holding up  
his coffee mug.  
"Thanks."  
Several minutes later, when both John and Rita were settled in again,  
Tony finally came out of his office.  
"Andy said they're running a little late, they'll be in soon."  
"Yeah, along with everyone else."  
Ignoring John's sarcastic comment, Tony continued. "In the meantime  
we've got a DOA stabbing on West Tenth. You two head out, I'll tell  
everyone else to meet you."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Another hectic day. Rita thought as she stood over the stove, cooking  
spaghetti, which seemed to be eaten more by singles than everyone else  
put together. Although she had to admit, she and John made a pretty good  
team when they weren't constantly bickering back and forth. She smiled  
and pushed a stray strand of dark auburn hair back behind her ear.  
Four and a half hours later, fatigue was again over-powering the  
petite detective. Rita crawled into bed and pulled the covers up tight  
around her. If only she could begin to comprehend the awful occurrence  
that would take place in the very near future.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
It was 2:18 AM. Rita suddenly awoke to a large, gloved hand clamped  
over her mouth.  
"If you make any sound at all I'll blow your head off." Stated the  
intruder in a strange voice. It was then that Rita noticed a small silver  
automatic aimed not one foot away from her head. "Get dressed." He yanked  
her out of the queen-sized bed and pushed her towards the dresser, all  
the while keeping the gun aimed at her head. She had only one hope: she  
turned her head to look at the nightstand next to the bed where she kept  
her gun belt, but before she could get a good glance, the intruder said  
three words that replaced that hope with utter fear.  
"I found it." He paused, then grasped her arm, and again pushed  
her towards the dresser. "Get dressed!" She stumbled towards it, and  
traded her nightclothes for a pair of boot cut jeans and a maroon-colored  
stretch tee with three-quarter length sleeves, the intruder watching her  
the whole time. When she was finished she turned around and finally got a  
full glimpse of her intruder: he was tall. He looked as if he could stand  
just about between John and Baldwin. His face was covered with a dark ski  
mask, and concealed under it must have been a voice changer. He looked as  
if he were wearing dark clothes, and, of course, dark gloves. Rita could  
not bring herself to fix her eyes on the pistol he held in his left hand.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Where-"  
"Shut up!" The intruder pushed her through the apartment to the door.  
She looked for signs of a forced entry, but recognized none. As if the  
intruder could read her mind, he offered an explanation. "You really  
should learn to dead-bolt your door, Ortiz. Nowadays anyone can get in  
with a good pick."  
This statement boiled up more fear within Rita. For while the thought  
that now no one would see anything wrong with the door worried her, what  
concerned her more was the fact that this man knew her name. In her  
nearly two years as a detective, Rita had learned that coincidences such  
as this were in fact not coincidences. This intruder had chosen her for a  
reason.  
"What do-"  
"I said, SHUT UP!" The man yanked her back so that her back was curved  
at an awkward angle. "I don't wanna hafta tell you again, you understand?  
Now we're going to walk calmly and quietly through the building out to  
the car and if you make the smallest sound I'll kill you right here. Ya  
got that?" When Rita made no sound or movement the intruder jostled her  
again. "Huh?"  
"Yes." She muttered softly.  
"C'mon." The intruder opened the door and pushed her out into the  
dimly lit hallway. As they made their way down the two flights of stairs  
and out of the double glass door, Rita could feel the nozzle of the  
pistol digging into the small of her back.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Though she had been blindfolded upon reaching the small car, Rita  
could tell by the roughly twenty-minute drive that they must be in  
Manhattan, in her precinct.  
When the car finally slowed to a stop, she wasn't sure if she was  
relieved or more worried. She heard the driver's door open and slam shut,  
and several seconds later her door was opened and she was jerked out of  
the car. Her kidnapper pulled her along with him across the sidewalk.  
Suddenly, they stopped, and Rita heard the jingling of keys, then the  
creak of an obviously under-used door before she was again being pulled  
along blindly. The creak of another door, then, seconds later, she was  
being pushed down onto the floor. As the blindfold was pulled away from  
her face, the dimness of the room rushed up to meet her eyes with great  
strain. Then, before she knew what was happening, her arms were pulled  
forcefully behind her and she felt the cold metal and heard the familiar  
click of handcuffs.  
"I'll be back soon." Said the man as he walked away from her and  
towards the door. "Don't move." He added, and Rita could hear him  
chuckling just before the old door creaked shut behind him. And then, all  
was silent.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Rita looked up. She appeared to be cuffed to some sort of small pole.  
Gazing around at her surroundings, she concluded that she was being held  
in an old garage. There must have been some sort of entry hall in the  
front. That was the cause for the two doors, she figured. The room was  
dimly lit by large lamps hanging from the ceiling, which looked like they  
might come crashing down at any moment. There were no windows in the  
room, and everything was covered in dust, dirt, and oil.  
Rita's shoulders were beginning to ache. She tried to re-position  
herself, but found that it was easier thought than done, and it didn't do  
much help, anyway.  
She sat there for hours waiting. Waiting for something to happen.  
Anything. And finally, something did. Suddenly, Rita could hear the first  
door being opened. Now she might finally be able to see the face of her  
kidnapper, if indeed this was him. But when she heard the second door  
open, something told her not to look up. In fact, nothing could have  
prepared her for what she was about to see.  
"Honey, I'm home." He teased. It was the unforgettable voice that suddenly jolted her senses awake. She jerked her head up, and there, standing in the doorway, was Laughlin.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Did you miss me?" Rita reacted with sudden fury.  
"Why did you bring me here!" She screamed. "What do you want!?"  
"Aw, that's an easy one." He said, stepping closer to her and crouching down so the two were eye to eye. Then, placing a hand gingerly on the side of her face, he leaned in and whispered, "Revenge."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Several hours later, the squad room of the Fifteenth Precinct was relatively quiet compared to the last few days. Everyone was at their desks, sifting or reading through papers, with the exception of Connie and Greg, who were scooping the last few drops of yogurt out of the plastic containers.  
"Anyone heard from Ortiz? I tried paging her, got no answer." Tony asked, coming out of his office. "It's not like her to be this late."  
"Nothing." Connie said, looking at him. They all stared at John, as if waiting for a response from him, too.  
"Don't look at me, she don't talk to me no more." He said, glancing at everyone else.  
"Well someone should check her apartment, don'tcha think?" Greg said.  
"I'll go, I still have a key." John volunteered, getting up from his desk. "What?" He sad when he saw the look Andy was giving him. "She just- never bothered to ask for it back yet."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Rita!" John yelled as he knocked on the door of her apartment. "C'mon Rita, it's John, open up!" Getting no response, he reached for the doorknob and yanked it to the right. It opened easily and he swung it away from him into the room beyond. He stared at the door for a moment before going in. She wouldn't just leave her door open like that. He thought, a feeling of uneasiness growing in his stomach. He entered the moderately sized apartment and checked every room, calling her name every few seconds.  
"C'mon Rita, where are you?" He said quietly to himself, his eyes desperately searching his surroundings. Something's wrong. He thought. Something's wrong.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"You cost me my job, you know." Laughlin said, standing up again.  
"No, I think it was you planting drugs in John's car that did it." Rita spat back at him.  
"DON'T CONTRADICT ME!" He yelled, and a split second later Rita felt horrifying pain as his large hand connected with the side of her face with such force that she felt it surge through her whole body.  
"John fought me in that Smoker because of you, and that's what set this whole thing off. So, basically, it's your fault that you're here right now."  
"You're sick!" She yelled at him, which resulted in him slapping her again.  
"You ruined my life, Ortiz! And now I'm gonna cause you the same pain you caused me." He said, while he slowly reached down and began to undo his pants.  
Oh God, help me. John. Help me John. Please help me.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
John ran through the first floor of the Precinct House so fast that several uniformed officers and the desk sergent stopped what they were doing and watched him tackle the stairs two at a time. "Something's wrong." John yelled as he stormed into the squad room. "She's not there, her door's open, something's wrong-"  
"Whoa, John, slow down." Andy said.  
"What? Start over." Said Tony, seemingly confused. John sighed and continued to tell the squad what took place when he got to Rita's apartment.  
"I tried calling her cell on the way back but she didn't pick up." John paused, then added, "I know something's wrong, Lieu. I can feel it." Andy, who in normal circumstances would've made a sarcastic comment at John's last words, instead just sat there.  
"You have any idea where she would go?" Baldwin asked.  
"No." John looked down, already fearing the worst. No. He told himself. You can't think like that. She's strong. She'll be okay.  
"You two had any cases lately that would-"  
"No." Connie answered Tony's question before he finished asking it. "None that I can think of."  
"Well you better start lookin', we gotta find her." With that, Tony retreated back into his office, leaving the five detectives and PAA standing there.  
  
*********************************************************************  
"Did ya like that, baby? Huh?" Laughlin asked as he sat in a chair several feet away from where Rita lay cuffed to the pole. There were tears running down her face, leaving thin trails through the dried blood on her cheek. "Huh? ANSWER ME!" Rita quivered, but still did not reply. Laughlin lifted himself out of the old iron chair and quickly crossed the space between himself and his captive. "ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!" And in a rage of fury he delivered a quick, direct kick to her torso. Rita screamed. Laughlin stood breathing heavily at her side for a few moments, then turned sharply and left her alone in the dark, dirty room.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Anything?"  
"Not yet, Lieu." Greg answered. Valerie had joined them, and everyone was going through old case files in which Rita had had any part in at all. So far, all possible leads were coming quite quickly to a dead end. They had been at it all day, and they were all beginning to grow tired.  
"All right, let's give it a rest. We'll-"  
"Lieu, she's in trouble, we can't just give up!"  
"I know that, John. We'll keep going tomorrow. For now we all just need a break. Go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow." John sighed and followed the others silently out of the squad room.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Rita jerked awake as the old, heavy door slammed shut. She watched as Laughlin slowly paced back and forth in front of her, never taking his eyes off of her. This continued for several minutes. Rita was to weak to move, or even to talk. She felt dirty. Suddenly, without any warning at all, Laughlin lunged at her. He kicked and hit, punched and slapped, ignoring her screams of agony. He had absolutely no clue what had come over him. He beat her over and over until she lay motionless on the cold, concrete floor, a trickle of blood running down her face.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The next day, the group was again going through file after file, trying to find any evidence of what had happened to their missing member. Hours passed, and still nothing was found.  
"Dammit!" John said, almost to himself, letting the file he was looking through fall to his desk. It had been so quiet that the sudden noise was startling, causing everyone else to stop and look at him. He sighed, got up out of his chair, and walked through the catching area. Grabbing a radio, he said, "Let me know if you find something." And disappeared down the stairs.  
  
*********************************************************************  
John had no clue where he was going. He just got in his car and drove. Several minutes later, he ended up in front of a building about the size of the Precinct House, tan in color. He passed it often on his drives through the city. He sat in the parking lot across from it and thought. He remembered the night he was in the admirable building. It hadn't changed at all since then. That was a great night. He kicked the crap out of Laughlin. And Rita.  
John's vision rapidly became blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't bear to think about it. Not now. He wished he could've told her he still loved her before-  
No. You've gotta stop thinking like that. You'll still get to tell her. You'll still be able to hold her close, and kiss her goodnight, and-  
The tears started spilling over onto his cheeks. He couldn't stop them and didn't want to wipe them away, yet something was telling him that he had to, that he had to stay strong for Rita's sake. In the end, he let them come, let them trail down his face and drip onto his collar.  
John thought back to the fight. It was funny how your worst enemy could make such a wonderful change in your life. After all, it was Laughlin who initially got them together, in a way. And it was Laughlin that brought them closer together by putting John in jail. John let his moist eyes wander to the building to the left of where the fight had taken place. It was small, one story, built with cold, gray bricks. Not much to look at. He thought. Just as he was about to look away an interesting detail caught his eye. Parked right in front of the old, gray builing was an equally old, gray car. This wasn't much to look at, either, and yet.John thought he remembered it from somewhere.he remembered seeing it quite often, in fact.at the Station House.and at the fight.Laughlin.  
What would Laughlin be doing there? He thought. He sat there for several more minutes pondering this, then realized that the warm, late August sun was slowly beginning to sink lower and lower in the sky. He sighed and turned the key in the ignition, ready to make his way back to the Station House.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The next morning John was the last to enter the squad room. "Package for you." Greg said as John hung up his overcoat. "Desk sergent said it was outside waiting for you on the step this morning." Concluded Connie. "Oh yeah?" Asked John, picking up the package on his desk. It was a small manila envelope, extremely lightweight and almost entirely flat except for a small bulge in the right corner. Scribbled across the front in large black print was 'John Clark'. He found a letter opener in all the clutter on his desk and slit it open under seven pairs of watchful eyes. He tipped it upside down and into the palm of his hand fell a folded piece of notebook paper and a gold chain, which he held up for closer examination. At that moment, John almost fell over backwards, and would've hit the floor had his chair not been there to catch him. Hanging from the chain was a tiny rose bud encircled in a thin heart. He recognized it immediately: it was the gold necklace that Rita always wore; the only time she didn't have it on was when she was on duty. "You okay, man?" Baldwin asked. Andy, upon seeing the look on John's face, had reached over and grabbed the note, unfolded it, and began to read aloud:  
"John-  
You never shoulda messed with me. She goes at 8:15 this morning.  
This is the final revenge."  
Simultaneously, eight pairs of eyes went to the clock on the wall next to John Irvin's desk.  
It was 7:50.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"What does it mean, 'this is the final revenge'?" Valerie asked, taking the note from Andy.  
"'You never shoulda messed with me'." Baldwin read over her shoulder. For a minute the room was dead silent, then:  
"Laughlin." John said, the same blank look on his face. "Laughlin has her."  
"Nah, man, I mean-Laughlin's an as*h**e, but-He ain't capable of something like this." Baldwin replied.  
"I'm telling you, it's Laughlin." John insisted. Suddenly he was feeling very lightheaded. "Laughlin has her-I-saw his-car-I-" As if to calm him down, Valerie reached down and put her hand on his shoulder. Suddenly regaining his composure, he asked, "What's in the old building next to where the Smoker was held?"  
"Nothing, anymore." Greg answered. "Used to be an old garage, but that's been gone for.four years now."  
"That's where they are." John said. In response to all the blank and confused looks he was getting, he added, "I saw his car there yesterday. Parked out front. I couldn't figure out why it would be there, but.that's where they are, I know it."  
"You sure about this, John?"  
"Yes Lieu, I'm positive."  
"All right, I'll call for backup and-"  
"No. I'm going in alone."  
"Are you crazy John?! This guy's obviously dangerous. I'm not gonna let you go in there alone, I don't care how much you care about her."  
"Fine, then you can come with me, but this squad, and that's it. No one else. And I'm not wasting anymore time." John quickly made his way to the coat rack and grabbed his overcoat and a radio. "If you're coming, let's go." Everyone, including Valerie and John Irvin, hastily followed him out of the squad room.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
All eight of them bundled into two cars: John, Connie, and John Irvin went with Andy, and Greg, Valerie, and Tony went with Baldwin. As it happened, any luck they were hoping for ran out as they got stuck in morning traffic.  
  
*********************************************************************  
Laughlin glanced at his wristwatch. It was 8:13. Close enough. He thought. Intending to keep his promise, he stood and pulled his silver automatic out of his pocket. He aimed at Rita's still unconscious form and stepped closer to her.  
"Say goodbye, Baby." At that same moment, John and the other detectives burst into the room, guns drawn.  
"FREEZE, NYPD!" Andy yelled. Laughlin was obviously stunned, but he quickly regained his composure.  
"Detectives. Just in time. How ya feelin' Clark?" Laughlin said, looking at the group, then focusing on John.  
In fact, John was stunned and speechless. He could barely stand to see Rita's weak, unconscious body crumpled on the floor. Her jeans and shirt were ripped, and her hair covered most of her face.  
"Drop your gun Laughlin, it's over now." Andy said.  
"What did you do to her?!" John demanded, ignoring him.  
"Aw, she's okay Clark, just a few bumps and bruises. And I gave her kind of a-lasting memory of myself."  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" John yelled at him.  
"I gave her HIV, Clark. Yeah, that's right. I got AIDS. And now she does, too. But none of that matters no more. Say goodbye to your Spanish gem, Clark."  
Three guns exploded at once, each hitting their targets. Laughlin was knocked backwards as John and Andy both hit him in the chest. He stumbled and fell over on his back, hitting the cold, hard concrete with a sickening thud.  
Almost immediately the whole squad ran and gathered around the unconscious Rita, whose shirt was steadily absorbing her blood.  
"Oh, God." John whispered as he knelt beside her. He lifted her already blood-soaked shirt just enough to reveal the bullet wound in her side and the major bruising and several slight bumps around her rib cage. He brushed aside her hair to expose more bruising and dried blood on her face as Valerie and John Irvin rushed in from outside.  
"Fifteenth Squad to Central K, we need-" Somebody was saying. John blocked out everything around him as he knelt over Rita, silently weeping, letting his tears drip onto her wounded body one by one.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
11:05.  
John was about to go crazy; he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand to just sit around and wait. He had paced the tile floor of the hospital waiting room a good dozen times before Connie intercepted him and forced him into an awkward hug.  
"She'll be okay. You know she will. We all know she will." She said.  
"C'mon man, let's get some coffee." Suggested Baldwin, taking hold of John's arm.  
"No." He said, pulling away. "I wanna stay here." Baldwin sighed and walked back over to the chair he had been sitting in just moments before.  
"At least give yourself a break." Connie said as she pushed him over to an empty chair next to Greg. He collapsed into it and Connie lowered herself into the next one.  
"I didn't even get to tell her I still loved her." He said, causing the rest of the group to look at him. "I didn't even get to tell her I still loved her." He repeated, dissolving to tears. Connie hugged him close again and tried to comfort him.  
"Don't think like that, John. You'll still get to tell her. She's strong, you know that. She'll make it. Shhhhh, she'll make it." But she herself was beginning to tear up again.  
"Doc." Greg said suddenly. Everyone jerked their heads up to look at the approaching man.  
"Rita Ortiz?"  
"Yeah." Andy answered.  
"And you must be her." He said, catching a glimpse of the tearful John. He trailed off, expecting John to answer, but, figuring it out himself, he just smiled. Looking at John straight in the eyes, he delivered the news everyone was waiting to hear: "She'll be just fine." He was rewarded with relieved sighs and grateful smiles. He continued, glancing at each one of them in turn. "She took a pretty good beating, though. Her left wrist and arm is fractured, two ribs are fractured and one is cracked. And she has a pretty deep gash on her forehead that required some stitches. She'll be pretty sore for a while."  
"Does she have." John couldn't finish. The doctor smiled again.  
"The test came back negative for HIV." John leaned back in his chair and began to cry again, this time tears of joy. Connie couldn't stop smiling, as couldn't Greg, and Valerie gave Baldwin an unexpected, but quite welcome, hug.  
"Do you wanna see her?" The doctor asked John.  
"Yeah." He said, jumping up out of his seat.  
"She could be out for a while yet, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like." The doctor said as he led John down the hall. "Right here." He said, stopping at room number 212. "Go on in." Then he turned and walked back down the hall, leaving John alone in the doorway. Looking in at Rita, John was once again speechless. She was lying peacefully in a small bed enclosed with bars. There was a large bandage over her left eye and her face didn't look any better now than when it was covered in dirt and blood; there were bruises all over.  
"Hey." John jumped at the sound of Connie's voice. She came up next to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"  
"That son of a bi***." He said as the rest of the squad pushed him into the small room. "Bastard!" He yelled as he pounded his fists on the cold metal bars. He could once again feel hot tears running down his cheeks.  
"John. Calm down." Andy said, guiding him into the nearest chair.  
"That bastard! I wish I could kill him all over again, beat him like he beat her." John said through the tears streaming down his face.  
Everyone else was silent.  
  
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John stayed next to Rita's bed the rest of the day and long into the night. It was around two o'clock when she finally awoke, waking John along with her. She was dreaming, or having a nightmare, rather, of her kidnapping, raping, beating-just as Laughlin's foot was about to connect with the side of her face, she awoke with a start, screaming and sitting straight up, then yelping again at the pain in her ribs. John jumped out of his chair and rushed to her side as tears streamed down her face.  
  
"Rita, shhhh, it's okay, I'm here now." He said, hugging her as best he could without putting pressure on her arm or ribs.  
  
"John."  
  
"Shhh, it's okay." He said, easing her back down again.  
  
"I prayed for you to come and save me, John." All was silent for a few minutes, then John spoke.  
  
"I still love you, Rita. I've always loved you. Those two days when you were missing were the worst days of my life. I can't live without you, Rita. I love you so much."  
  
"I love you too, John. I always will."  
  
******************************************************************  
  
When Rita was released from the hospital, she had two options: either  
have an at home nurse with her constantly or move in with John for the  
duration of her recovery. Naturally, she chose John. Several weeks later, John was again the last one to arrive in the squad room.  
"Hey. Got a visitor today." He said, hanging his coat up on the rack  
as Rita appeared next to him.  
"Hey!" Connie greeted her.  
"Hey, feelin' better?" Tony asked.  
"A little."  
"Welcome back, Detective." John Irvin said happily as she walked  
through the catching area.  
"Thanks, John."  
"Have a seat." Baldwin said, wheeling her chair to the spot between  
John and Connie's desks. John helped her sit down and lowered himself  
into his own chair.  
"You gotta give me something to do, Lieu. I'm going crazy just sitting  
around all day."  
"No, don't." John said quickly. "You're supposed to be just sitting  
around all day, it helps you heal." He said, smirking at her. Rita  
rolled her eyes and gave Tony a pleading look.  
"I'm not the boss of this one." He said apologetically.  
"So I take it recovery's not to fun?" Andy asked.  
"It sucks." Rita replied, stealing a spoonful of Connie's yogurt.  
"So, uh, how long before you can return to full duty?" Greg asked.  
"Two months." She said, sighing.  
"And in those months we're going to do lots of just sitting around."  
John said playfully, and Rita rolled her eyes again. Then she suddenly  
took on a serious tone. "Andy, I already told John, but.I wanted  
to thank you for.basically saving my life."  
"Hey, don't worry about it. This squad's a family. We're a family. And  
there's never gonna come a day when we won't be there to back each  
other up."  
"Thanks guys." Rita said as Connie put her arm around her shoulders.  
"You just hurry up and get better, okay? 'Cuz until you come back I  
gotta work with these two." She said, gesturing towards Andy and John.  
Rita laughed.  
"I'll do my best." She said, taking hold of Connie's right hand, which  
was hanging off her shoulder. "I love you guys." She said, glancing  
around at the whole squad. "I can't wait to come back."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
That night, John and Rita were lying in John's bed. Since John couldn't hold Rita for fear of causing her more pain, they just cuddled close together. A light, peaceful rain beat at the windows, acting as a lullaby for the two adults. Just as Rita was about to fall asleep, John leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss.  
"I love you, Rita. More than anyone could ever imagine. I'll love you  
forever."  
"I love you, too, John. I'll love you forever and for always."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Forever And For Always, Written by Shania Twain and Robert John "Mutt" Lange, Performed by Shania Twain on her latest album, Up!, 2002, Chorus only:  
  
'Cause I'm keeping you  
  
forever and for always,  
  
we will be together  
  
all of our days,  
  
wanna wake up every morning  
  
to your sweet face-always 


End file.
